Willow Tree Burning
by Miss Kayl
Summary: Ch 9 up. Set after season 7. What happens when one of the Scooby Gang died? Chapter 8 is up. Some spoilers for Buffy season 7 and the current Angel season.
1. Awakening

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Buffyverse. I just take it and play with it and put it back the way I found it.

Willow Tree Burning

Chapter 1

Buffy Summers looked down at the fresh grave with the fresh coffin with the fresh body in it and didn't understand. She was the Slayer. She had come to terms with her short life span years ago. Hell, she had died twice. She was prepared for her death, but not this. Xander losing an eye during the battle against the First was bad enough, but not this. Not after the war was over. The aftermath of apocalyptic battles was supposed to be a time to relax, rest, and have some fun before the next annual apocalypse. Not this. Not her. Not now. 

Xander Harris wrapped Buffy in a hug, giving comfort as much as receiving it. Giles was there, and Faith, and the others who had survived the final battle, but it felt like just the two of them, alone in their grief. It had been them from the beginning. Giles didn't exactly count in this—he had been an adult. He hadn't known what it was like to live, and love, and laugh, and fight—to just grow up—together. Others had come and gone—Angel, Oz, Cordelia, Tara, Anya, Spike—but they were bound by something more than friendship, more than love. It was something that bound them—and freed them. Something that had allowed them to soar for seven years. And now a third of their bond was gone. More. More than a third. 

"She was truly the best of us all," Xander said softly, echoing a sentiment expressed many years ago that was still applicable today. Buffy nodded, still bleakly wondering why. It had been so stupid. So pointless. A random car, a slippery road, and reflexes that had been just a fraction of a second too slow. She murmured, "She didn't even die in battle. She was ready to give me that, even when she was evil, and she didn't even get it herself. She was a hero, a warrior, and she didn't even die in battle."

She looked up at Xander, a single tear sliding down her face. "Why didn't she die in battle? She's been through enough of them, so why didn't she?"

Xander shook his head, looking at the fresh grave of his best friend since kindergarten. "Life's a bitch like that."

******

It was like a radio had been turned on in her head. Thoughts tumbled over themselves, as if to make up for lost time. She didn't even try to sort them out. The audio slowly fuzzed into being, and she heard soft voices. As feeling returned to her limbs, she realized she was lying on a cold, probably metal, table without a stitch on. Oh yay. 

All limbs here? Check. Hearing? Check. Clothes—don't even think about it. Sight?

She cracked her eyelids open a slit, not sure if this was hostile territory or not, and peered around. White walls. White walls and a face, moving towards her—yikes!

She shot upright, ignoring any danger, and stared around. Panic fizzled nicely in her belly. At least it was content to stay there for now. 

The woman—it was a woman who had been drawing near—said soothingly. "It's all right. You're safe."

She relaxed slightly and glanced down then back up pointedly. The woman handed her a blanket, which she wrapped around her shoulders before looking around. Five other girls were sitting or standing as well, looking just as confused as she felt. No—not girls. One didn't look older than sixteen, the oldest at least twenty, but all had a familiar look in their eyes, a feel about their stance. She looked back at the woman and saw that three more women and four men were standing behind her, near a door. She blushed, glancing at the blanket. Terrific. As if waking up in a strange place hadn't wigged her enough, waking up in a strange place naked as the day she was born with strangers in the room just gave her the uber-wig. 

One of the men stepped forward. He was medium height with graying brown hair. He looked in his 50's and he wore a suit. "Ladies," he said quietly, with an accent that made all six girls stiffen slightly in recognition. For some it meant duty, for others comfort. For her it meant it was time to start worrying. 

As none of the others were talking, she made the first move. "Where are we?"

"London," he said. "England."

Figures, what with the accent and all. 

"Where in London?" a girl with an accent reminiscent of Spike's asked. 

The man said, "I doubt you would recognize it anymore."

"Who are you?"

The man's gaze returned to the American girl. "My name is James Ashton."

"You're with the council." It was not a question, and her voice was flat. He nodded once. "Yes, I am, as I am sure you all have guessed by now."

She glanced back. One girl was nodding, one girl looked nonplussed, one was impassive, and the other two just looked like they were in shock. 

Ashton continued. "I realize this comes as a shock to you all, but—"

"What, we were all in comas?" she interrupted. He blinked then said gently, "You were dead."

Murmurs ran through the group, shocked and upset, but she sat there silently. She had thought she had died. She glanced around, seeing now the runes and accoutrements for a powerful spell, and her heart sank. Her face, though, remained unreadable. "And you brought us back to life."

"Simply put—yes," he agreed. She resisted the urge to glare at him malevolently and, to hide her fury even more, looked down as she fiddled with her blanket. 

Why had they brought her back?

"Miss Summers?"

Why had they bothered with her? She was powerful, sure, but the Council hadn't known that. 

"Miss Summers."

"But—wait—hadn't there been—

"_Summers_!"

Her eyes flashed up as she snapped, "Obviously she's not here, so quit shouting while I think!"

Stunned silence met this. Ashton stared at her. "You—you are not Buffy Summers?"

She frowned. "Why would you think I was Buffy? She's the Slayer, well one of them. Anyway, she's—what? Whoa—wait a minute." 

For a minute she had forgotten the being brought back from the dead thing. Her eyes widened. "No. No way—you didn't. You—stupid council—_you got me mixed up with Buffy_?"

Faces were white. Ashton cleared his throat. "Apparently we did. Who are you, if you are not Buffy Summers?"

"Willow. Willow Rosenberg."

A/N: Kinda short, I know. The other chapters will get longer if I get reviews. If I don't get reviews, then I just won't write other chapters. 


	2. Discussions

A/N: I'm back! Sorry—it was busy-ness for the last few weeks, and my plot bunnies were bitching about my other stories. But I'm back, and this fic isn't forgotten—don't worry. 

*Surveys first chapter* Well, shit. Thank you Sara. You are absolutely right—I got the basic concept from Yahtzee's Phoenix Burning. I haven't the faintest idea how I forgot to mention that in the first chappie. All I say in my defense is that I had had a really, really bad weekend. So, here goes. 

Disclaimer: The Jossverse does not belong to me, and the basic concept for this story came from Yahtzee's Phoenix Burning, an excellent story *bows to Yahtzee* I could never write anything that compared. So, go read Phoenix Burning. Go, shoo. I give you leave to go. On second thought, read mine first and then I give you leave to go *Shrugs* I get to be a little selfish, don't I? But as soon as you're finished reading this, go read Phoenix Burning 'cause it's a thousand times better than I could ever do. I know what it is—it's a fanfic of a fanfic ^_^ There'll be similarities, but I'm not retelling her story—I've got my own twisted plot for this fic. 

*Glares at title* I think I might change my title—I'd forgotten that Yahtzee's was Phoenix Burning. I'd thought it was Phoenix Rising. My bad. *Sighs* 

huh: You are absolutely right about Giles—I didn't mean to make it sound like I was taking away from his relationship with them. I phrased the sentence badly. I was talking about the growing up together thing and the bond that comes then. As he was already an adult, he did not have the bond that growing up together gives friends. My apologies. And you're right—it is bad form. Can I just say I had had a really sucky week and was in an extremely bad mood? And many apologies and cookies? ^_^

Willow Tree Burning

Chapter 2

One of the girls asked hesitantly, "You are not a Slayer?"

Slayers. Of course—that was why all their eyes looked familiar. They were all Slayers from times long past. That, and the magic…

"You idiots!" Willow exploded, finally understanding. "Do you know how seriously _wrong resurrection can go?"_

Ashton drew himself up stiffly. "I beg your pardon?"

Willow took a deep breath. "There will be consequences. There are always consequences, don't you realize that? Magic isn't a toy!"

"We are fully aware of that," Ashton said stiffly. He looked at the others. "Suri?"

An Asian girl nodded. 

"Sarah?"

"Just call me Chaos," the British girl said. 

"Keladree? Micaela? Nora?"

At each name he got a nod, and he sighed in relief. Then he looked at Willow, obviously troubled. "Miss Rosenberg, my deepest apologies for the mix up. I had no idea."

"It's okay," Willow said automatically then frowned. "Well, not really, but there's nothing you can do about it now."

She looked around, still curious about the spell they had used. She recognized parts of it, but others…

"Why are we here Mr. Ashton?" one of the Slayers—Nora, Willow thought—asked. Willow blinked. Oh yeah, that little detail. 

"Simply put, we need your help," Ashton said frankly. "We are being overrun by demons."

Willow frowned slightly. That was—that wasn't supposed to happen—be happening. That was what the spell had been for…

"Overrun how?" the British girl, Sarah, asked. Ashton looked grave. "During most of your lives, the vampire percentage of the population was very low. During Keladree's life, it was slightly higher. But now—now nearly thirty percent of the population consists of vampires, and another five or six of other demons."

"Good Lord," Nora murmured. 

"The humans are losing," Ashton said bluntly. "And we need your help. You five are five of the best Slayers in history."

Willow could see the pride in their eyes at this statement. She looked at Ashton. "And Buffy was the best."

"Well, yes," Ashton admitted. "She lived to be thirty four."

"Good for you Buffy," Willow murmured to herself. 

"Perhaps the ladies would like to get settled," another man suggested. Willow's attention was drawn back to the group at the wall. Ashton nodded. "Of course, of course. Helen Mayes will direct you," he told the girls. 

The ones still sitting on the tables got to their feet. Willow followed suit a little more slowly, deep in thought about what he had said. Something occurred to her, and she turned to look at Ashton. 'What year is it?"

He looked grave. "2514."

Someone staggered. Someone else gasped. Willow felt numb again. Five hundred years. Five hundred—Her eyes met Ashton's. "There's no one left, is there?"

"How could anyone from your lifetime have survived?" a girl scoffed. Willow didn't look away from Ashton. If he knew of Buffy, then he knew who she was talking about. He looked away and said flatly, "Everyone is dead."

Willow looked down, nodding, and followed the others. 

******

All six girls were settled in one large room. A small chest at the foot of each bed held clothes. Helen Mayes gestured to them, saying, "You each have clothes. I would suggest dressing. Lunch is within the hour."

She left them, giving them some privacy. Willow looked at the others. "She's right. We'll probably feel better dressed." Although waking up together with five other girls, all of them naked as the day they were born, did tend to bring on some automatic camaraderie for some strange reason. 

"Feel better?" the girl with blue black hair, dark brown eyes, and olive skin demanded. "How are we supposed to feel better? It has been one thousand years since I lived."

Then again, maybe not. 

"And five hundred since I have," Willow informed her. "What difference does that make? We are all out of our times."

"Yes, but at least we're all Slayers," Sarah said. "What do you have? You're not even a Watcher."

"Yes," the black haired girl—Micaela—agreed, looking at her. "How did you even know of the Council?"

"Buffy was my best friend," Willow said, looking through the chest. She dressed and sat down on her bed. The others copied her. Sarah looked curious. "I wasn't allowed to have friends."

"Neither was I," Nora said. 

"Nor I," Micaela agreed. Keladree shrugged. "My Watcher didn't stop me."

They glanced at the last, Suri, who merely looked back impassively. Willow gave her a small smile then looked up when the door opened. Helen Mayes looked at the red head. "Willow, Mr. Ashton wishes a word."

Willow nodded and headed for the door. Sarah grinned. "You're in trouble."

Willow made a face at her then, when she passed Helen, felt tendrils of grief wrapping around her heart. The younger girl reminded her of Dawn. 

Helen led her to a door and pressed her palm to a pad. The door slid open—like in Star Trek—and Helen gestured her in. 

Willow stepped in, slightly wary, looking around. The Council was not a group to be lax about when dealing with. 

Ashton stood by a table, pouring tea. Another man sat on a sofa, looking a little uncomfortable. Willow studied him briefly. He was slender, with light brown eyes and graying brown hair. He seemed troubled. 

Ashton looked up. "Ah, Miss Rosenberg. Please, sit down. Thank you Helen."

Willow sat gingerly in a chair facing both men, her green eyes flicking from one to the other. 

"Tea?" Ashton asked. Willow hesitated then nodded. "Please."

He poured her a cup. "Milk? Sugar?"

Willow shook her head and accepted the cup. Ashton handed the other man a cup and sat down with his. "Miss Rosenberg, I apologize yet again for the mistake. I have no idea how it happened. As things stand though, we will have to work with what has happened, yes?"

Willow nodded, taking a cautious sip of her tea before setting it down. "I have one thing to say before you start."

"Yes?" Ashton looked at her politely. Willow just looked serious. "Don't bring Buffy back." 

Ashton drew himself up slightly in his chair. "I beg your pardon? She was a Slayer. She would understand."

"She would hate you," Willow said flatly. "She died twice before and was brought back. She's earned her rest."

"She was a Slayer," Ashton repeated dismissively. "She would accept her duty."

"She would beat the crap out of you," Willow said dryly. "Trust me."

"May we move on?" the other man suggested. It was the same man who had suggested they get settled. Willow looked at him. "Who are you?"

"Damon Kentworth," he replied. Willow studied him then said, "You were supposed to be Buffy's Watcher."

He dipped his head in acquiescence. 

"Now he is yours," Ashton said. 

Willow stared at him. "What?"

"You can't expect to be set loose in this time without anyone to look out for you," Ashton said, as if the idea was absurd. Willow stared at him. "But—I'm not a Slayer! I can't have a Watcher!"

Ashton looked at her. "Why do you have a problem with this arrangement?"

Willow glanced at Damon Kentworth. "Well—"

Damon smiled kindly. "I am not offended. I was startled myself. By the way—how do you know what a Watcher is?"

"Buffy is—was—my best friend," Willow said after a minute. "I know all about the Slayer thing."

"Ah."

"So," Ashton said. "You agree?"

Willow glanced at Damon and nodded. "I guess. Ooh—can I learn weapons?" She looked at Damon hopefully. "I know some, but I never really took the time to learn them."

"I suppose," Ashton said. Willow gave him a dry look. "I thought Damon was my Watcher."

Damon chuckled. "She has a point James."

Ashton glanced at him then allowed a small smile. "Touché. Well then, Miss Rosenberg, Mr. Kentworth, it is lunch time."

Willow rose, as did Damon, who said, "Ladies first."

"Oh no." Willow grinned. "That won't work until I know my way around, mister."

He chuckled and offered his arm. Willow accepted, deciding that she liked him. Buffy would have liked him too…

Willow shook her head to banish those thoughts. She could dwell on those later. 

It was a small dining room that they entered. Small, but very nice. Willow looked at the room with approval. "Nice."

"I agree," Damon said, looking around. "Your companions are staring."

Willow glanced at the Slayers with a grin and joined them. Sarah poked her, demanding, "What happened to you?"

Willow shrugged. "I got a Watcher. I am no longer Watcher-less."

"But you are not a Slayer," Nora protested. Willow looked at her. "That's what I said, but did they listen? No. So I get my very own Watcher."

******

"Ladies."

Ashton's voice made them look up from their after-lunch conversation. He nodded to them. "I realize that it has been a rough day, but I hoped you would be willing to obtain an understanding of why you are here."

Willow glanced at the others. This was their gig. Heads nodded and ten minutes later they were settled in a room with a large screen. Ashton pushed a button on a controller and a seal appeared on-screen. 

"This will show you all what our world has become," he said as scenes flashed across the screen. A deserted town, a crumbling city. Vampires and demons killing humans. 

The Slayers and Willow watched, grim faced, as scene after scene paraded across the screen. Willow could hardly believe what she was seeing. She had fought demons, yes, but never had she seen demons on this scale. This was a war.

And wasn't that why they had been brought back? To fight a war? They thought she was useless, an accident, but soon they would learn why Willow Rosenberg was a good ally to have. Soon—not today, not tomorrow—but soon. Why she was reluctant to tell them about being a witch, she did not know, but instincts were an important part of this world-saving job, and she trusted hers. She trusted Buffy's better, but Buffy was not here. It was just her, all along, fighting this fight—but not alone. Five other Slayers and an entire Watcher's Council with her. So why did she feel alone?


	3. Lessons

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews people! And yes, I do plan on putting my own twisted plot in this—retelling Yahtzee's story in definitely not my intention. 

Chapter 3

"Adjust your grip. No, not closer—farther. Your hands are supposed to be shoulder width apart girl. Good. Now your feet—shoulder width! Good heavens, child, shoulder width!"

Willow let out an exasperated noise as she tried, once again, to fix her stance. "Is this right?"

Damon eyed her critically and nodded. "Well enough. Now, bring your staff in front of you, parallel to the ground and we will begin with position three."

Willow complied, her forehead knitted in concentration as Damon called the positions that she had learned. 

It had been a week since Willow and the Slayers had awakened. A week that the Slayers had used—and continued to use—to train, loosening long unused muscles and heightening reflexes that had not been used in centuries. Willow had been using that time to learn to fight with the traditional weapons of the Slayer. Damon was currently teaching her the quarterstaff, a weapon he informed her that she had to master before he would let her anywhere near a sword. She grumbled some—she had used a sword before without using a staff—but, as Damon had informed her, that had not taught her how to properly use her weapon. It had merely taught her that, in a life threatening instance, she could use a sword to hack at vampires. Now she was to actually learn to use the weapons properly, if she didn't get incredibly annoyed with his nitpickiness. 

"Now, bring the staff down as in position two and then turn to your right. This is handy in knocking an attacker on his bum."

Willow grinned. At least he explained what the specific moves could be used for, unlike some of the other Watchers she overheard teaching their Slayers. She sometimes heard the instructions in different types of fighting that the older Slayers had not had at their disposal, and the Watchers did not explain what the moves were for. Probably because, as Slayers, they could figure it out, but it was nice that Damon explained. 

"Excellent," Damon commented when she went through the new move. "When your grip and your stance are correct, you seem to have a natural affinity for weapons."

"I watched Buffy a lot," Willow explained. "It's kinda hard not to pick some things up. And we did learn how to handle weapons."

Damon nodded agreement. "That does help. Right then—position seven."

After the morning weapons lesson, the six girls had lunch together. They had all settled into a routine of the morning weapons lessons, lunch, and then in the afternoon they were given history lessons to catch them up, not only on the demon world, but on what had happened in the rest of the world since they had died. So far, they had yet to reach the 21st century, so Willow and Keladree were not required to attend, as Willow had obviously lived through the 20th century and Keladree was from the beginning of the 22nd. They had much more in common with each other in that regard than with the others, as the rate of development for technology had shot up during the late 19th and 20th centuries, and then slowed slightly in the middle of the 21st. Willow, ever the computer genius, liked to talk about what the human race had come up with after her death, and surprised Keladree by understanding quite a bit of it. 

Today's lunch conversation was about computers, a personal favorite of Willow's, while the others listened in bemusement. 

"So they didn't get a whole lot smaller?" she asked. Keladree shook her head. "Nope. Laptops got a little smaller, and lighter, and obviously there were the descendents of the old Palm Pilot, but desktop computers—well, the CPU got a whole lot smaller, but people liked the larger monitor sizes."

"Right, view ability," Willow agreed. "That makes sense."

"Most of them were flat-screen by my time," Keladree said. "Like a laptop."

"What about the internet?"

Keladree shrugged. "It was still there. Connection speeds got a bit faster, but it's kind of hard to get a whole lot faster than an Ethernet connection. Wireless internet was pretty popular too."

"Did you have the sliding doors?" Willow asked. Keladree grinned. "Yeah. They can be voice activated too, if your voice is the one the receiver recognizes. I've watched the old Star Trek movies. I guess the saying's true."

"Which one is that?" Nora asked, listening in fascination. 

"If you can dream it, you can build it," Willow said. Keladree nodded. "That's the one. As soon as electricity was discovered, technology took off."

"It's a good thing, isn't it?" Nora asked. "Things happen faster."

"And it's cleaner than fire," Willow agreed. 

"Safer too," Keladree added. 

Someone cleared their throat. Six heads turned to look at Ashton. He gave them a smile. "Ladies. It's time for lessons."

The four addressed rose and headed for the door. Willow asked, "Mr. Ashton?"

"Yes Miss Rosenberg?" Ashton looked at her. 

"Do you have an internet connection here?"

He blinked for a minute then nodded. "Of course. Would you like to use it?"

"If you don't mind."

"Of course not." Ashton gestured to Damon, who was lounging by the door. "I'm sure Mr. Kentworth can show you where the computers are."

Willow grinned. Keladree asked eagerly, "Can I go too?"

"I don't see why not." 

Damon smiled at the two young women. "This way then."

He led them up a floor to a room with a screen in it. Willow stared at the consul. So did Keladree. 

Computers had obviously changed a bit in the last 400 years. There was no mouse, and the 'keyboard' was flat, without the letters she was familiar with. Willow frowned at it as she took a seat. "Okay—this is weird."

Damon pulled up a chair for Keladree before finding one for himself. "Would you like some help?"

Willow shook her head, studying the machine in front of her. "Give me a minute—" 

She tapped a few squares on the flat consul and the screen came to life. Willow grinned. "Hacker girl strikes again."

Damon tensed slightly. "Pardon?"

Willow turned to look. "I was the computer girl for our group."

"Did you say hacker?" Damon asked, ignoring her statement. Willow nodded, frowning. "Not, like, the hackers that go and destroy stuff. Just the kind that finds information to stop apocalypses. Why?"

"Hacking is a serious crime nowadays," Damon said grimly. "I would not suggest attempting it."

Willow nodded, a little worried by his worry. "I wasn't planning on it."

Keladree eyed her suspiciously. "You did a lot of hacking?"

Willow shrugged. "Not so much _hacking_…more finding necessary information…why are you asking?"

Keladree shook her head. "I just remember learning about an excellent hacker in my computer science class that was around in your time. The late 20th century right?"

"Late 20th, early 21st," Willow agreed, a little wary. "Why?"

"Well, it was just that they were never caught," Keladree said, shrugging. "And one of the best of the era."

"Imagine that. Let's see what the internet is like nowadays," Willow said, turning back to the consul. 

Damon, watching her, grinned. "I don't think Ashton expected you to figure out how to use the computer this quickly."

"Yeah, well," Willow said, tapping a few more squares. "He doesn't really know who he's dealing with, does he?"

Damon eyed her thoughtfully as she let out a triumphant, "Ah ha! We're online," and Keladree said, "Cool. Let's see if any of the old sites are still online."

No, he did not think Ashton had any idea who he was dealing with when he dealt with this young woman. Damon had watched her closely since he had been made her Watcher and had come to the conclusion that she was a very powerful woman, even if just in character. He knew that Sarah, the British Slayer, only sixteen, was still having a hard time dealing with being dragged into this new time with no familiar faces around, as was Nora and, apparently, Suri. He wasn't so sure about Suri—he hadn't heard her say a word all week. Keladree, he noticed, was doing all right, but he had never heard her speak of her Watcher. Micaela—he was a little wary of the 18 year old. She seemed to have quite a bit of anger in her. She had said once that she had died right after her eighteenth birthday. To the other girls besides Keladree, this had seemed important. He was not sure exactly what was so important about a Slayers eighteenth birthday. Perhaps he should ask Willow if she knew. 

Willow, on the other hand, he had watched closely, and it was obvious she was upset about being brought into this time, still in a state of shock about the amount of time that had elapsed—but she tended to put that aside during lessons and workouts to learn about the new threat. The times that he knew she was thinking of her life were after dinner, mostly, and before breakfast, and then he could see the feelings she tended to not let him see during the day—pain over the loss of her friends and family, anger at the Watcher's Council—although that seemed to come from something more than just the fact that they resurrected her—and some fear. Fear from being alone in this strange time and fear of the new 'big bad' as she called whatever it was that caused this increase in the demon population. But there was something else about her, something he could not put his finger on. He almost sensed an amount of power coming from her—not a lot, but enough that it was possible that knew of it. She may have helped Buffy Summers in different ways than research, he mused, watching her surf the sites. Then he zoned in to exactly what sort of sites she was looking at. 

"Demon sites?"

Willow looked at him, nodding. "A lot of these were around in my time, which is actually kind of strange. But they've all been updated—majorly. I mean, this one?"

She gestured to the site she was looking at.

"This is one I checked out just last year—or—um—" She frowned. "You know what I mean. It helped with our fight with the big bad of that year. This m question mark thingie? I remember that—mainly 'cause he started going all lecture-ey when I mentioned it—but it was the thing that made us realize exactly what it was we were looking at."

She stopped talking, frowning at the screen, oblivious of Damon and Keladree's confused expressions. What had it been that they were looking at when that symbol explained things? Everything from the last six or eight months were hazy, piecemeal. It was driving her crazy, especially the knowledge that this upsurge of demons should _not have happened—but why? One Slayer could not handle them all, so if they had suddenly grown brains…Well, that in itself was hard to believe, but even if they had, there was a reason why the demon population most emphatically should not have grown—it should have shrunk. But what was the reason? Faith—yeah, she remembered the dark haired Slayer all right. She had gotten out of jail—that much she did remember. She had helped them in the final battle. What was the battle against? She couldn't remember. Okay, don't push it. It will come. Temporary amnesia was common after a coma—death was probably a lot like the same thing. Potentials—yes, she remembered them. Something had been special about them…potential whats? Okay, so maybe it wasn't just the last six or eight months that were hazy. Maybe it was bits and pieces of the last few years of her life that were piecemeal. Like that she was a witch, but then she remembered hating the magic and could not remember why. And something about Xander kept eluding her—not something important, but everything about her best friend was important. Both of her best friends. Buffy had said something to her—about her magic…_

Willow let out a huff of frustration as she stared at the screen, and she went to the next result of the search she had put in for demon texts. She would remember eventually—because of all the things she had forgotten, there was one extremely important thing that she knew she should know, that affected this problem the world was having. And she had to remember this—something told her that it was important. 

A/N: 'Nother chapter down, undecided number of chapters to go ^_^ And as always, review people!


	4. Council

A/N: ^_^ Loving the reviews people!

Randall Flagg: Have you ever wandered into the Buffy Crossovers section? There are a lot of Buffy/Harry Potter crossovers there. The funny thing about them is that the beginnings, for the most part, are really similar. That's kinda what's going on with this story. The concept of one of the Scoobies being brought to life is a good one. Yahtzee's reason behind it happening makes sense, that's why I used it. It's not a rip off. Give it a few more chapters and then tell me whether it's really a rip off or not, 'kay? And I already apologized and explained why I forgot to mention Yahtzee in the first chapter. Go read my note in chapter two. 

Chapter 4

Willow watched the five Slayers sparring from a spot on the floor by the wall near the door of the practice room. Actually, five Slayers sparring was not the right phrase. Two would spar, then another two, and then the fifth would spar with one and the other four would spar. It was very complicated keeping track of who sparred with who next, as far as Willow was concerned. Thankfully, she didn't have to. 

The missing spots in her memory still troubled her. It was like she remembered something, but there was something about that memory that was missing. It was very annoying. She knew she was a witch. No one else knew she was a witch yet—she had not gotten around to telling them. She had a feeling she was a pretty powerful witch, but she could not remember why. 

A shadow over her made Willow look up. Keladree was standing in front of her, a grin on her face. "Spar with me."

"What?" Willow stared at her. "Are you crazy? You'd beat me in a second."

Keladree laughed. "I'll go easy on you—no slayer strength, I promise."

Willow said dryly, "Right."

Keladree continued to grin. "Please? Damon says you're doing pretty good."

"With a staff," Willow said, glancing at her practice sword. Keladree's eyes sparkled. "He says if you spar with me and do all right, he'll let you start learning how to use a sword. Otherwise he says the Council will decide when and if you learn how to use a sword."

"Council? Why?" Willow demanded, even as she stood up. Keladree glanced at Ashton, who was supervising the workout. "I heard we're being presented to them this afternoon."

"This afternoon?" Willow felt her stomach tighten. She really did not like the Watcher's Council—not after they fired Giles. Of course Quentin Travers was no longer there…

"All right."

"Sweet," Keladree said. She found two staffs and tossed one to Willow, who caught it and headed to the center to join Keladree. She did not notice that the others stopped sparring to watch, as Keladree instantly attacked her. Willow parried the blow, noticing that Keladree was definitely not using all of her Slayer strength, and went into a sweeping blow that would knock her off her feet. Keladree jumped over it and brought her staff down. Willow went to block it, but Keladree switched direction at the last minute and got in a strike to her middle. Willow winced and stepped back, then, when Keladree relaxed slightly, thinking she was taking a quick break to recover, lunged forward and hit her on the shoulder. Keladree winced and grinned. "Nice."

"Yeah, well," Willow returned, a smirk on her face. "I spent seven years watching the best."

Damon, a few feet away beside Keladree's Watcher, Nick Barret, cleared his throat. 

"And taught by one of the best non-Slayers," Willow added, throwing her Watcher a grin. 

"Right," Keladree snorted. Willow smacked her with her staff, using her distraction, and got a yelp of surprise. 

"Pay attention—I coulda been a vampire," Willow teased. 

"You'd scare the vampires," Keladree retorted, aiming a blow at her leg. Willow blocked it and retaliated, grinning. "Thanks."

"I meant with your looks dear," Keladree teased. Willow made a face, ducking a high blow. 

"Gee thanks."

"Anytime."

They sparred for another five or six minutes before Ashton called a halt. Damon walked up, a smile on his face. "That was very good."

"Thank you," Willow said with a smile. She looked at Keladree, who was grinning.

"You're pretty good for a non-Slayer," Keladree remarked. 

"I'm just gonna say thanks and swallow any comments I might come up with," Willow replied, but she was grinning too. "That was fun. I—sparred—with Buffy once—" She frowned, trying to remember what that had been about, and why she did not remember it was fondness. She finally shook her head, banishing those thoughts, and looked back at Damon. "What was this about the Council?"

Damon gave Keladree a look, which she returned innocently. "What?"

"Yes, this afternoon you will be brought before the Council," Damon said, rolling his eyes. 

Willow frowned. "Why did it take so long? I mean, why weren't we introduced beforehand?"

"It was to give you all a chance to adjust to this time period," Damon explained. "Being brought back from the dead—we were sure you would need a few days to adjust."

"Got that right," Sarah muttered. Willow glanced at her then back at Damon. "And give them a chance to get back up to scratch?"

"That too," Damon agreed. "The Council expects the best Slayers be brought back, and they were, but it would have been hard to sell if they had still been regaining their abilities."

Keladree nodded her understanding. "It makes since," she said. "I wasn't at the top of my game a few days ago. Now, though…" She twirled the staff on her fingers and grinned. "Much more like myself."

"Exactly," Damon agreed. "Now, you might wish to clean up before lunch. We go to the Council Headquarters right after."

"We're not at Council Headquarters?" Nora asked curiously. "Why?"

"The Council owns several buildings around the world," Damon said. "Headquarters is a bit busy these days, so this building we decided was better. It's only a block or so away."

"Oh."

Willow glanced at Nora, who looked satisfied, then at Micaela and Suri, who were standing a few feet off, their heads together. Micaela looked annoyed—per usual. Suri looked like she was trying to calm the younger girl down. Willow hoped it worked—another Faith in this time period would not be good, and the dark haired Slayer reminded Willow a little too much of Faith in senior year. 

At Ashton's suggestion, the six resurrectees made their way back to their room for showers and a change of clothes. Willow was finished first, and she packed her clothes into the bags they had been provided. Suri was next out and she copied Willow, packing things. Willow glanced at her. She wasn't sure how old the Slayer was—she did not talk much. She looked to be about the same age as Keladree, who was 21, two years younger than Willow. 

Willow remembered her discussion with Micaela and asked, "What was up with Micaela?"

Suri looked at her, a small smile on her face. "She wished to spar with you as well. She was upset when Mr. Ashton put a stop to the training session."

Willow frowned. "Why did she want to spar with me?"

Suri shrugged. "I do not know."

Keladree came out and started packing as Suri said, "Perhaps she wished to see how well you really fought."

Willow, finished packing, sat back on her heels and frowned at Suri. "She didn't think I can really fight?"

Suri shrugged again. "Perhaps. I do not know." A half smile touched her face. "I do not read minds."

Keladree snorted. "Will can fight. She couldn't really beat a Slayer, but she's pretty good for a pseudo-normal person."

"Pseudo-normal?" Willow asked with a smile. 

Keladree nodded. "No one who has lived with you for a week would consider you normal, Rosenberg. So you're pseudo-normal. You try to pretend you're normal, but we all know it's an act."

Willow just shook her head. "Come on, the Council awaits."

"Joy," Keladree said dryly as Nora and Micaela came in. Nora looked at Keladree curiously. "Joy what?"

"The Council," Keladree said. 

Nora frowned at her. "The Council is the organization that we answer to. We should treat the members of it with respect Keladree."

Keladree groaned. "Give it a rest Nora," she said. "I'm respectful, we're respectful, right Willow?"

Willow shrugged. "I don't answer to it," she said. 

Nora looked at her. "You do now, do you not?"

Willow looked at her. "Well," she said slowly. "Considering why my experiences with the Council have been—no, not really."

Nora looked shocked. Micaela rolled her eyes, packing her things. "Nora, she's not a Slayer. She should not have to answer to the Council."

"She has a Watcher," Nora insisted. "She answers to the Council now."

"Doesn't mean I have to respect it," Willow pointed out. "The Council is comprised of humans, just like the rest of the world. It goes through good times and bad times, and I happened to be alive during one of the bad times. I'll save my decision for when I meet them, thanks."

Nora sniffed but dropped it. Keladree grinned at Willow, who shrugged, slung her bag over her shoulder, and headed out to find her Watcher. 

*****************

The six girls were herded into a car for the five minute ride to Council Headquarters. Willow surveyed the building when it came into view. It was what would be considered modern in her times, made of metal and glass. There seemed to be two buildings, connected by glass and metal tube walkways at each of the seven levels. They stopped beside the one on the right and got out, each looking around. 

Sarah looked around, and muttered, "He was right. I don't recognize it."

Willow said absently, "This is pretty much the center of London."

Keladree and Sarah stared at her. Sarah said, "I thought you were from America. How do you know where we are?"

Willow blinked. "I've—spent some time in England." Although it had all been in Devon, not London. How did she know where they were?

"Come along," Ashton said, leading them inside. 

Willow glanced around. This building was hauntingly familiar. Had she been here before? Why would she have been at Council Headquarters? It didn't make sense. 

"When did they rebuild Headquarters?" Nora asked, looking around. Ashton looked at her. "I believe it was blown up in the early twenty-first century."

Willow froze. 

Blown up. Caleb. Evil preacher. Servant of—of…of what? Nothing they had to fight. The Bringers—killing Potentials. Potential whats? They rebuilt it. The Scoobies rebuilt the headquarters for the Watcher's Council. Why? Because the Slayers needed Watchers. Giles was the most senior member alive—he was head of the Watcher's Council. Who was second? Buffy, of course.  Who else? Her. She had been a member of the Watcher's Council. Why? They did not like the Council. No. What had Giles said? They had not liked the people at the Council, and a lot of the Council traditions. They had scrapped a lot of the old traditions in favor of new ones. A Slayer training center? What had that been about? 

Willow growled mentally at the still gaping holes in her memory. She remembered why she had been in England and part of the final battle for Sunnydale. They had won the battle but lost Sunnydale—which was not completely a bad thing. The Hellmouth had closed. But there were still important pieces missing. 

"Willow?" Damon asked. Willow looked at him. He nodded to the others, who had kept walking without her. "Let's catch up with the others, shall we?"

They caught up with the others at an elevator and all went up to the seventh floor. Willow remembered what the other floors were for. Research, library, training facility, school for Watchers…

The elevator doors opened to show a hall with several doors on each side and a door at the end. Willow remembered this too. The floor was devoted to the offices for the upper Council members and the Council meeting room, which dominated half of the entire floor. 

It was this door, the one at the end of the hall, that Ashton led them to. At the door, he turned to look at Willow. "Have a seat Miss Rosenberg."

Willow looked at him, confused. "What?"

"Have a seat." He nodded to a row of chairs against the wall. Willow sat grumpily, Damon beside her, as Ashton knocked on the door and, at the response, opened it, leading the Slayers in. Keladree cast Willow a sympathetic glance as she followed the others in. 

Willow grumbled, "What, I don't get introduced? Oops, we made a mistake?"

"Not at all," Damon said calmly. "Mr. Ashton simply wishes to introduce the Slayers first."

Keladree, the last one in, had left the door open, and Willow could hear, "Good afternoon Mr. Hunter."

"He's the head of the council," Damon murmured. 

"Afternoon Ashton," a voice responded, presumably Mr. Hunter. "These are our Slayers?"

"Yes sir," Ashton said. "Allow me to introduce Sarah, Keladree, Micaela, Suri, and Nora."

"Where's the sixth?" a voice that struck a cord in Willow asked. 

"Pardon? We did not set a number…" 

"There are six new females here," the voice insisted calmly. Willow frowned. She knew that voice. It wasn't English, although it had a hint of an Irish accent. A light tenor—a voice she knew. 

"What's he talking about Ashton?" Hunter demanded. "I see five. Is one invisible?"

There were snickers from the room. Ashton said coolly, "Mr. Hunter—"

"Spare me Ashton," Hunter said. "Where's this girl he speaks of?"

"I can smell her," the light tenor added. "There's something—actually, sir, it's a familiar scent, though I can't place why."

Willow continued to frown. Familiar—not English—not Xander—good sense of smell…oh Lord. 

Willow lunged to her feet, ignoring Damon's hiss to sit down, and appeared in the doorway, searching the large table for the familiar face she knew was there. There, looking at Ashton. Dark hair, dark eyes, leather coat, black clothes—

"Angel," she said weakly. 

Angel's head snapped up, his eyes fixing on Willow for several tense, silent seconds. Then he shoved his chair back so fast, it fell over. "_Willow_?"

Willow moved past the other Slayers, still staring at Angel. "What—I thought—"

She leaned against an empty chair, still staring at him. Angel walked over, as shocked as she was. He touched her arm, as if to make sure she was really there, then rounded on Ashton. "Why was she brought back?"

"It was an accident," Ashton huffed. "As I told Miss Rosenberg."

"Accident," the voice of Mr. Hunter growled. "I thought you were going to set up protections against this happening, Ashton."

Willow looked in the direction of the voice, at the salt and pepper haired man. He looked at her. "I take it you are not a Slayer."

Willow shook her head. "No, I'm not. There—there were protections against someone other than a Slayer being resurrected?"

"There were supposed to be," Hunter said shortly. "Apparently someone made a mistake."

Willow nodded, looking at Angel. "What are you doing still walking around? I was told everyone was dea—oh." She glared at Ashton. 

Angel looked at her quizzically. "Willow?"

Ashton said quickly, before Willow could say anything, "I did not realize you were familiar with Angel, Miss Rosenberg."

Angel looked at Ashton. "She asked about me?" He looked at Willow. "You asked about me?"

"Not you in particular," Willow admitted. "Not by name at least, but since you're the only vampire I know that's not dust…"

"Sorry I'm late," a British voice said. "What'd I miss?"

Willow spun at the familiar voice, not seeing Angel's small, exasperated smile, and stared at the blond vampire sauntering inside. "Spike!"

The bleach haired vampire halted, looking at her. "Who's the bin—oh my God you're Willow."

"Yeah," Angel said. "Bit of a surprise for me too."

"Spike, what are you doing here?" Willow demanded. "You were—I mean—you dusted! Poof! Buffy saw you!"

Spike, his hands in the pockets of his leather duster, shrugged. "Well, that's the thing about dying for a good cause Red," he remarked. "I came back."

"How?"

"That amulet," Spike said. "I was a ghost for a while, but we finally figured out how to corporealize me, thanks to Angel's girl, Fred, and here I am."

"Fred?" Willow repeated, frowning. "Oh, Fred!" She glanced at Angel. "I remember her."

"Uh huh," Angel said. "I'm not surprised."

Willow directed a scowl at him before looking back at Spike. She frowned. "Spike, why are you on the Watcher's Council?"

Spike snorted. "Slayer asked me to, after we figured out how to make me all nice and solid again."

"And…Angel?" Willow looked at him. 

Angel shrugged. "She asked me a few years after you died. Wolfram and Hart was…well, as good as it could get, so…"

"Whoa, wait a minute—Wolfram and Hart?" Willow demanded. "Aren't they evil?"

"Yes."

"Why did they matter then?"

"Well…" Angel cleared his throat. "I was put in charge of them. It's where I got the amulet, actually."

"Oh." Willow blinked a few times. 

In the lull, Hunter asked, "Can the reunion between you three wait? We do have quite a bit to discuss."

"Oh, right," Willow said sheepishly. "Sorry."

Hunter smiled. "It's quite all right. I realize it was a bit of a start—" He shot Ashton a glance. "—but we really must be getting on with it."

Angel led Willow over to his seat and sat her in the empty chair beside him. The Slayers found seats as Mr. Hunter said, "Well, now that you all have been introduced—Spike, sit down, please."

"Oh, right." Spike found a seat and plopped down in it. 

"Thank you. As I was saying, now that you six have been introduced, I'd like to introduce our people—yes…Nora, is it?"

"Yes sir," Nora said. She glanced at Angel and Spike. "Are they vampires?"

Mr. Hunter smiled. "I was getting to that, but yes, they are. They are both gifted with a soul, though. They are on our side. You have no need to worry about them attacking you."

Nora looked unconvinced but nodded. 

"As I was saying, I'd like to introduce our people. You have met our two resident vampires, Angel and Spike. Our current Slayer, Jordan—" He gestured to the girl seated a few seats from him. Willow glanced at her. She looked about 17, and a bit put out about something. 

"—and the rest of the council members—well, I'm not going to bore you with this many names." Hunter gave the girls a brief smile before a serious expression replaced it. "You have been told, I assume, why you were brought back? Yes, Nora."

"The vampire population is taking over," Nora said. 

Keladree snorted. "It's not taking over, it's just getting—bigger."

"But—"

"Actually," Hunter said, intervening before they could get into an argument. "Keladree is more right than I think she knows."

The Slayers looked at him, startled. Willow frowned at him. "The—the vampire population's growing and it's not trying to end the world?"

"Surprisingly no," Hunter said. 

Spike snorted. "That's 'cause someone smart is in charge," he informed them. "It's the same reason I ganged up with Buffy to help save the world."

Keladree looked at the vampire with interest. "I thought you were a good guy."

"This was before that pet," Spike said. "But this world's pretty good for a vampire. As I told the Slayer, you got dog racing, gambling, lots of fun stuff, and all those people wandering around like Happy Meals with legs."

"Spike," Angel muttered. 

"It's true," Spike retorted. "Whoever's in charge—he's the smart one. He knows that vampires have a good thing here. It's a shame to waste it."

There was a moment of silence then Willow asked, "So who is leading them?"

"We don't know."

That was Hunter. Willow looked at him seriously. "Why not?"

"He's not advertising his identity," Hunter sighed. "And all the vampires we've questioned just call him Master and My Lord."

"Master?" Willow glanced at Angel. "The Master couldn't have come back, could he? 'Cause I thought Buffy ground his bones up and everything."

"She did," Angel assured her. "It's not the Master."

"Besides," Spike added. "If it was that particular wanker, the world would probably be ended by now."

"True," Willow murmured. She looked at Hunter, wondering who it was. 

A/N: Okay people—no more saying this story's a lot like/a ripoff of Yahtzee's. It has been duly noted, I _know_ there are a lot of similarities. Continuing to tell me that will not stop me from writing this story 'cause my muse won't leave it alone—and the story line's different. So notice, complain to yourself if you want to, but it's been said several times and if it's said any more I'm just gonna ignore it, 'kay?

With that out of the way, review please!


	5. Memories

A/N: ^_^ Reviews are nice. Me like reviews. 

Phidan: Remember Buffy's 18th birthday? Remember how very much not happy she was? ^_^ But you're right—the Council really hasn't got a clue. 

Spike: I was a little confused by your review, so I'll try and answer your questions as best I can. Angel is not dead—at least, not anymore than he usually is. Since he's a vampire, Ashton could get away with saying dead and not be lying, since he knew that Willow was alive around the time Angel was in Sunnydale and he didn't know whether or not she knew him ^_^ Dru…Dru's not in this…I have no idea whether Dru's been dusted or not on Angel, but she's not in this. And Spike—did you watch the Buffy season 7 finale? As for memory—she died. Her memories are fuzzy, and what happened in the finale is kinda important. If you haven't watched the finale, watch it. It was good. Not as good as season 5 finale, but there was no way they could top that and it was good. And then start watching Angel ^_^

Did anyone watch last week's Angel by the way? I have decided on a name for that expression Spike gets—you know, the one where he sniffs and purses/smushes his lips together? I don't know how else to describe it—it's the one he gets before a fight usually, if he's not grinning. I have dubbed it his "I'm not scared---really" look ^_^

Chapter 5

After the meeting, Willow started to follow the Slayers out. Angel stopped her though, asking, "Are you busy?"

Willow blinked at him then looked at Damon and Ashton. "Uh—Damon? Am I busy?"

Damon looked at her, then at Angel, then at Ashton. "No, I don't think so."

Willow looked at Angel. "Apparently not."

"Do you want to talk? We have some catching up to do," Angel said. Willow nodded. "Sure. Sounds like a plan."

"I'm inviting myself along," Spike said. Angel gritted his teeth, obviously counting to ten, then looked at Spike. "Sure, Spike."

Willow smiled. The rivalry between Spike and Angel was legendary for the Scoobies, and now with five hundred years added…she frowned at Angel. "After five hundred years, you two still haven't learned how to get along?"

"We get along," Angel protested. "Just with lots of arguing and—"

"Fighting," Spike volunteered. "Sure, we get along fine."

Willow just shook her head. Angel and Spike fighting was less worrisome than Angelus and Spike, but was she really going to have to listen to these two go at each other for the rest of her not-quite-natural life?

"If you'd learn how to take orders…"

"If you'd figure out that you're not the big boss…"

Oh yeah. This should be interesting.

Angel led the way down to floor four, down a hall, and opened a door. Willow looked around the room appreciatively then frowned at the large window. "Uh—Angel? How do you not go all…you know, dusty?"

Angel smiled. "It's treated. I discovered it when I acquired Wolfram and Hart."

"Neat," Willow said, looking out the window at the street. She turned around to look at Angel and Spike. "So. Um…what happened? A-after I, um, died, I mean."

"We fought the good fight," Spike volunteered. "As usual."

Willow smiled. "Well—that's—that's good and all, but it doesn't really answer anything. What happened with Buffy and Xander and Giles?"

"They rebuilt the Council," Angel said, settling in a chair. "Would you like to sit?"

Willow sat in another chair, looking at Angel intently. "I figured that, since it's all—here, and all—but—"

"How did they die?" Angel supplied softly. Willow nodded. 

"I know it's kinda—morbid, but—"

"It's not," Angel assured her. "Buffy was averting another apocalypse."

"We do seem to draw them," Willow murmured. 

"She succeeded, but—it was like with the hell god you told me about."

Willow nodded. "Mr. Ashton said she was 38 when she died."

Angel nodded. "She lived a long life, especially for a Slayer. Since she had help, it makes sense, but—"

"Yeah, Faith," Willow said, frowning slightly. "What happened to her?"

"Same apocalypse," Angel said, his frown more pronounced. "And I wasn't just talking about Faith."

Willow looked at him, confused. "What?" The sense that something was missing tickled at her again. 

Angel looked at her oddly. "Buffy told me about the spell that you cast—during the battle with the First."

Willow continued to stare at him. Spike snorted. "Don't tell me you've forgotten."

"Okay, I won't tell you," Willow said slowly, looking at Angel. "First what?"

"Being dead scrambled her brains," Spike remarked. "It didn't affect Buffy like this."

Angel shot him a glance. "Buffy was only dead for a few months. That may make a difference."

"May?" Spike snorted. "Did." He looked at Willow. "Don't tell me you don't remember the next generation. Kennedy? Hello? Am I ringing any bells?"

Willow continued to frown. "Ringing, yes. Hearing? No." She shook her head. "Just tell me—maybe it'll help."

Spike sighed. "First Evil, killing Potential Slayers, the Summers house became HQ against those buggers, the Bringers? You and Kennedy shacking up? Are you not remembering anything?"

Willow looked at him blankly. "Some of it. I remember the Bringers. I don't remember the potentials. The First Evil? That's—a really bad name."

"Not if you understand the context, as the lil' bit put it," Spike grumbled. "Bloody Evil, dressing up like any dead person it wanted. Do you remember Caleb? You have to remember Caleb, he put out your boy's eyes."

Willow stared at him. "Xander lost an eye? Hang on…" She frowned in concentration. It was floating back to her. Caleb, a servant of the First…the house had been full of teenagers—she remembered that now, unfortunately. Faith…resouling Angel…a fight in a—a vineyard? Right—that's where Xander lost his eye, poor guy. 

She looked up at Angel and Spike, still frowning. "It's—it's starting to come back, but not all of it. I cast a spell?"

Spike snorted. "You cast a whopper of a spell. You don't remember that either, do you?"

"No."

"It's the spell that saved our necks," Spike pointed out. "Well, yours at least. With that—weapon thing?"

"Weapon thing," Willow repeated. A picture flashed, of a red and gold weapon. Buffy holding said weapon, saying she felt something. Willow's eyes flew to Spike. "Oh God."

"You remember now?"

"Not completely," Willow said tensely. "Where is it now?"

Spike shrugged. "Lost. Gone, for a couple hundred years now actually. Someone stole it from Council headquarters."

Willow stared at him. "Why?"

"Because they didn't know how important it was," Angel said. "Spike and I are the only ones who know, and even we don't know all of it. As the years pass, things get lost. Important things. Traditions, by-laws get interpreted differently."

Willow nodded. "I get it. The Council's changed since you joined."

"Not necessarily for the better either," Spike grumbled. 

"The spell though," Angel said. "No one understood why the spell ended."

"It ended?" Willow asked blankly. "What did it do in the first place?"

Angel glanced at Spike, who said, "You activated all the potential Slayers, love. We had an army of Slayers, from all around the world."

It was like a light had come on—or maybe more like something had sliced through a veil that had kept the memories back. 

Willow stared out the window, remembering everything. She remembered the spell, the scythe, the potentials—including Kennedy—her magic. Buffy's speech about her power, where the power came from (she winced at that). It all came back. 

Willow stared at Angel and Spike, her mouth open slightly in shock. Now she knew why this rise in demon activity was bothering her more than just because demons were not of the good. "The Slayers should have kept them back."

"What?" Angel demanded, lost, but Spike nodded. 

"They should have. But the spell went wrong somehow. After the first activation, no more were activated. The numbers dwindled over the next few decades until we were back to just one. Buffy—as usual—was the last remaining besides the active Slayer. Her last apocalypse really ate up the last five or so Slayers we had left."

"But—" Willow protested. "I cast it so that all Slayers for the rest of time would be activated. What went wrong?"

"I don't know," Spike said. "Neither did Giles, or any of that coven he knew—the one you went to."

"Oh my God," Willow murmured. "That—oops."

"Oops?" Angel repeated. "Why oops? What's oops?"

Willow raked her fingers through her hair, looking at him sheepishly. "Um…it means oops? Like—I worked the spell wrong?"

"How?" Spike demanded. "It worked, didn't it?"

"Yeah, it worked," Willow agreed. "But—" She shook her head, trying not to giggle. It was not a giggling matter. Really. "I—I think I tied the spell to the wrong thing."

The two vampires stared at her. Willow continued to look sheepish. 

"Tied it to—oh." Angel sighed. "Oops."

"Oops," Willow agreed. "Big oops."

"Someone fill me in?" Spike said. 

Willow looked at him. "Um—when I did the spell, I felt the power come through me. Actually, it was cool. It purged all the dark magic out, which was neat."

"Willow," Angel said. 

"Oh, right. Well, it went through me, not the scythe. The spell was tied to me. So when I died…"

"The spell ended," Spike finished. "Bollocks."

"Yeah," Willow agreed. "I didn't realize that, or I would have concentrated on tying it to the scythe."

"And since we don't have the scythe," Spike said. Angel finished, "We can't redo the spell."

"Not yet," Willow agreed. "But I bet we can find the scythe."

"How?" Spike demanded. 

Willow was back to looking sheepish. "Same reason I was able to be brought back? I think I kinda connected myself to the Slayer line in that spell?"

"Yeah, but—how did they end up with you?" Spike asked. "I mean, didn't they need blood or something?"

Willow shrugged, trying to remember what she had seen. "I'll have to ask. They may have just called the Slayer from a particular year—which meant they had a one in three chance of getting Buffy instead of me or Faith—or would that be a one in several hundred chance?"

"Probably one in three," Angel said, frowning. "That—that's interesting…"

"I know you meant to say bad," Willow said, frowning at him. "That's the reason there's been an upswing in demons. Oh God—will my magic never stop messing things up?"

"Oy," Spike said, frowning at her. "It didn't mess things up. That was a good thing you did, you just never had a chance to refine it, that's all. Now, we just find the scythe, redo the spell, and all will be as right as rain. So. Where's the scythe?"

Willow looked around. "Um…on Earth?"

Spike sighed. "This is going to be a long hunt."

A/N: *snicker* Gotta love Spike. Well, you don't gotta love him, but he's very loveable, even when he's being bad and I am going to stop right there. ^_^ Until next chapter!


	6. Conversations

Tigerlily: ^_^ Can I just say your review made my day? Really. And I was having a really bad day too. 

Chapter 6

Willow talked with Spike and Angel about the possibilities of finding the scythe until Damon knocked on the door, wondering why she was not at dinner. Willow looked at him sheepishly. "Sorry—lots of catching up to do."

"I understand," Damon assured her. "But you are being asked about." A smile touched his face. "Keladree seems to think you are being shut out since you are not a Slayer. It would perhaps be a good thing to convince her that you aren't."

Willow blinked. "Oh. O—kay. Right." Her stomach growled. "Plus, hungriness can be a deciding factor too," she added, rising. Angel and Spike rose. Willow looked at them. "You two coming?"

"Why not," Spike said. "I'm feeling a bit peckish myself."

Angel merely rolled his eyes and followed. 

When Willow entered the dining hall behind Damon, Keladree and Suri noticed her immediately. Keladree grinned and waved her over. Suri smiled at her as she sat down with her dinner. Willow said, "Hi people."

Nora looked at her, a slight frown on her face. "Willow, you know the two vampires?"

Willow, her first forkful halfway to her mouth, blinked at her. "Um…yeah?" She took the bite as Nora looked ready to burst, partially from curiosity, partially from shock, and partially from well bred distaste.

Keladree snorted, watching her try to re-find her voice after that statement. Micaela stepped in first, asking, "How? Did not your Slayer friend try to kill them?"

"Several times," Willow agreed. "There's a history—with both of them."

Keladree looked interested. "History? Does it mean the same thing to you as it does to me, 'cause that would be just—ironic."

"What, a vampire in love with the Slayer?" Willow asked innocently. 

Nora choked. Micaela's eyebrows shot up. Sarah stared at her, forkful of food halfway to her mouth forgotten. Suri looked mildly surprised. It was she who queried, "A vampire in love with the Slayer? How is such a thing possible?"

Willow shrugged, glancing over at where Angel and Spike were talking to Damon. "It just—happened. With Angel, mostly. Well, the whole in love thing. But there was nastiness and ooginess, not good stuff, so that didn't work."

"And then she fell in love with Spike?" Keladree asked. Willow looked thoughtful. 

"No, I don't think love was ever the right word. At least not the same sort of love. Spike and Buffy had a history before he joined the forces of good of him trying to kill her. But also, like he said, he ganged up with her to help save the world. Spike's just a weird vampire." She thought for a minute. "I guess you could call Buffy and Angel star-crossed lovers, like Romeo and Juliet. It was doomed—I mean, a vampire with a soul, and the soul had a happiness clause and bad things happened when _that_ got broken—"

Keladree looked interested, the others uncomprehending. 

"And then there's Spike, who even without a soul fell in love with a Slayer. She didn't exactly reciprocate, but it was close enough for him." Willow looked back at Spike, watching him. "He and Buffy were well matched when it came to fighting." She looked back at the Slayers and saw incomprehension. She sighed. "And I'm just not explaining it well. It's hard to—there's just a lot of history behind Spike and Angel and Buffy, and therefore me."

Nora was staring at her and now demanded, "But they are good?"

"They are good," Willow agreed firmly. "No slaying them. Like Mr. Hunter said, they have souls. Although Spike was good even before he got his soul…"

Keladree leaned towards Willow, stage whispering, "I'd quit now. You've lost'em."

Willow smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry—I'm just really bad at explaining things like this. Tell you what—ask them about it."

Micaela looked suspicious. "You are sure they will not attack us?"

"Positive," Willow said firmly. "For the third time. They're good guys, people. They help fight the good fight and all. Plus, they're kinda friends."

"You are talking about the vampires?" a voice asked from behind Willow. 

She squeaked in surprise and turned to find Suri's Watcher, Michael McLean looking down at her. "Don't do that!" she yelped. "Gees, coronary much?"

Michael chuckled and took a seat beside his Slayer, watching Willow with bright eyes. "You know the vampires though, yes?"

"Yes," Willow sighed. 

"Maybe you can explain why they are constantly at each others throats, figuratively speaking of course."

Willow stared at him for a split second then giggled. "Oh—the Angel vs. Spike feud. That's funny, in a slightly annoying way."

"Do tell," Keladree said eagerly. 

"There's not much to tell," Willow protested. "Angel and Spike ran together in the 1800's. Actually, Angel turned Dru, who turned Spike, so Angel is, like, Spike's grandsire. So there was competition about Dru, and then there was the whole Buffy thing—and after Angel got a soul…"

"There's a history," Sarah surmised. 

Willow nodded brightly. "That's one way to put it."

"Bloody hell!" a familiar voice snorted loudly. "Who did she put in charge of the bit? Not you—you were up in L.A., doing God knows what, while I was doing my job to protect her and her kid sister. You never even technically met her!"

Willow and Keladree exchanged glances. Keladree asked, "History?"

"History," Willow agreed. She looked at Michael. "Do they do this often?"

"Only on days ending in Y," Michael said dryly. Keladree giggled. Willow nodded. She had expected that. 

"At least they haven't killed each other. Yet."

***********  
  
Willow laid in bed that night, staring into the darkness and thinking. She still had not told the council that she was a witch, much less about the spell she had cast. She was still coming to grips with that particular memory herself, and she wasn't sure she wanted the Council to know exactly how powerful she really was. Angel had said that he would arrange a meeting with Mr. Hunter the next day so that she could tell him without the rest of the Council hearing, in case he thought it best for her to keep her witchy-ness quiet for some reason. Maybe she could tell him about the scythe then—and ask about the Guardians. 

The Guardians. That was something Buffy had told them about after the battle. The Guardians were supposed to be there to watch the Watchers and watch out for the well being of the girls. They had reinstated them when they recreated the Council, with Buffy, Faith, and Willow herself becoming the first three. The logic behind that had been that, as the two experienced Slayers, they knew what the newer Slayers would go through, and that Willow, as a witch and long time friend of the oldest Slayer, would understand as well. And it had worked for the six some odd months that Willow had been a Guardian before she died. They had been available for the newly activated and newly discovered Slayers to come and ask questions, or make complaints, or make suggestions, or even just talk to. Giles had become the head of the Council, after a unanimous Scooby vote, and Dawn had decided that becoming a Watcher would work well for her. Xander had decided not to become a Watcher, but he did help with the construction of the new Watcher's Council Headquarters, putting in his own additions. Andrew had become the official recorder of all events pertaining to the newly conceived Watcher's Council, including writing down the newly drafted Charter of Watchers that the Scoobies had come up with. It had kept many of the old traditions, gotten rid of the more archaic and unnecessary ones, like the Cruciamentum, and added a few of their own, like the Guardians. What with what Spike had said about changes not all being for the better, Willow wondered what had been changed. She certainly hoped the way Slayers were trained had not been. They had done away with the notion that a Slayer must be separated from their family and friends to do their job, as Buffy had proved that it had definitely not been true. It was an excellent possibility that Buffy had lived so long simply because she had had friends and family that tied her to the earth—after all, Xander had brought her back the first time, and she had brought her back the second time. Had Xander not been there, Buffy would not have even been brought back the first time. 

Willow rolled over, dozing off. As she slipped into sleep, she could hear Xander's voice saying, "Let me tell you something about Buffy. In fact, you should all listen to this. I've been through more battles with Buffy than you all can ever imagine. She's stopped everything that's ever come up against her. She's laid down her life—literally—to protect the people around her. This girl has died two times, and she's still standing. You're scared? That's smart. You got questions? You should. But you doubt her motives, you think Buffy's all about the kill, then you take the little bus to battle. I've seen her heart, and this time not literally. And I'm telling you, right now, she cares more about your lives than you will ever know. You gotta trust her. She's earned it," and Faith's response of, "Damn, B, I never knew you were that cool."

Willow fell asleep, a half smile on her face. 

**********  
  
Willow wandered into the dining hall for breakfast the next morning, somehow feeling a whole lot better than she had in a long time now that she remembered everything and slept on it. 

Suri remarked as she sat down, "You are cheerful this morning."

Willow smiled at her as she helped herself to breakfast. "Let's just say I've gotten a new perspective on things."

She got several curious looks but did not respond to any of them, settling in to eat her breakfast. 

Angel walked up when she was finished, saying, "Hunter wants to see you."

Willow looked at him, surprised the head of the Council had apparently agreed to see her so soon. "Okay."

Angel led her to Hunter's office on the seventh floor—the office that, Willow remembered, Giles had used. Willow looked around, a shadow passing over her face as she remembered the Watcher that had been more like a father to all of them for seven years. The room did not look remotely the same. She had not expected it too, but still…

"Ah, Miss Rosenberg," Hunter said with a smile as she entered. "How nice to see you again."

Willow smiled at him. "Call me Willow, please."

"Willow then. Have a seat, make yourself comfortable. Angel says you want to talk to me." Hunter settled back in his chair behind his desk and surveyed the red haired young woman as she sat down in a chair next to Angel's. She seemed so vulnerable when you looked at her. Hunter could not imagine what Angel's remark earlier that she was stronger than she looked could mean. He had watched Slayers for years and always—_always—there was an aura of power in even the most delicate looking ones. He did not see that in her. _

Then gray-green eyes fixed on him as she focused her full attention on him and he saw a glimmer, a shade really, of something behind those innocent eyes. He cleared his throat. "What can I do for you?"

Willow hesitated, glancing at Angel, but he was not saying anything. She hid a sigh and looked back at Hunter. "Um…I just wanted to let you know, since I haven't yet—mostly 'cause I kinda forgot, or at least didn't think about it, and it never came up anyway, so—"

Angel cleared his throat, a smile starting on his face. "Willow, you're babbling."

"Oh." Willow reddened slightly. "Oops—I still do that huh?"

Hunter smiled. "What is it you wish to tell me?"

"What? Oh—just that I'm a witch."

Hunter blinked at her. "A practicing witch?"

Willow nodded. "Until…um, well until I died, actually." She made a face. "That really screws up timing, you know that?"

Hunter was not going to be distracted though. "You have been trained?"

Willow nodded. "Yeah, I learned control and stuff with a coven in England, but a lot of it I learned by myself. Or just plain made up," she added as an afterthought. Hunter raised an eyebrow.

"I see."

Willow smiled brightly. "So, yeah, that's what I wanted to say, so you know that I can help in the magic area, even if I can't help so much in the slaying area."

"That will be helpful," Hunter agreed. "Thank you for telling me."

Willow smiled and moved to go when Angel muttered, "Scythe."

"Scythe? Oh! Right—scythe!"

"Scythe?" Hunter asked, looking between the two in confusion. 

Willow looked at him, now even more nervous. Saying she was a witch was one thing. Saying that she had cast a spell to activate all the Slayers with a scythe was another. She finally compromised. "Yeah. Um…during the last major apocalyptic battle I was part of, we found a weapon, a scythe, that was created for the Slayer. Buffy said she felt like it belonged to her. Faith said the same thing. It was red and gold—had three ways of killing vampires? The Guardians created it for them."

Hunter was frowning heavily. "I have never heard of this weapon—or these Guardians you speak of."

Well that answered that question. 

Hunter continued to frown as Willow waited for him to stop thinking and start talking. She finally asked, "Is there a chance I can do a locator spell for it or something?"

Hunter looked at her, startled out of his thoughts. "No," he said decisively. "No, save your magic—"

Angel covered a snort. 

"—You will need it to help with this—master vampire. Perhaps you can do a locator for him?"

Willow thought about that then shook her head. "I would need something to connect with him before I could. Maybe if you catch one of his minions or something, but until then…" She shrugged. "Sorry."

"Quite all right," Hunter murmured, thinking. "Magic is not all powerful, after all."

Willow remembered her magic dealings and muttered under her breath, "At least not for most people."

Hunter did not hear her. He said, "I will have to think about where to put you. Let me think on it for a bit."

That was a dismissal if Willow had ever heard one. She nodded and left. Hunter looked at Angel, who looked back calmly. 

"She does not seem all that powerful."

"Looks can be deceiving," Angel replied cryptically. 

Hunter looked at the dark haired vampire intently. "She has power."

It was a statement, not a question. Angel nodded slowly. "Oh yes. She has power."

"How do you know?"

"She restored my soul," Angel said. "Twice. Once when she had a concussion."

Hunter stared at him. "A soul restoration? But—that is extremely powerful and advanced magic! And it borders on dark!"

Angel nodded. "Yes," he said simply. "As I said, she is stronger than she looks."

"I believe it," Hunter murmured, remembering that glimmer in her eyes. "I believe it."

******  
  
Willow, on her way out of the elevator after leaving Hunter's office, turned the corner and ran into someone. Said someone snapped, "Hey! Watch where you're going!"

"Sorry," Willow responded, looking at who she had nearly knocked over. The girl looked familiar—wait. "Jordan, right? The current Slayer?"

Jordan nodded. "And you're Willow, the non-Slayer that was somehow brought back."

Willow nodded. "That's one way to put it." She surveyed the girl, and the vaguely resentful look in her eyes reminded Willow of—who? Oh, of course—Buffy their senior year. She raised her eyebrows at the girl. "Let me guess—you're not too thrilled about the other five Slayers showing up."

Jordan stared at her. Willow could see a denial forming on the younger girl's face when she finally nodded reluctantly. "A little. I mean, I know it's stupid—they're here to help, but—"

"They're moving in on your turf," Willow finished. Jordan nodded, casting her a sideways glance. "You look like you know the feeling."

"No, but I know someone who did," Willow replied. "And for good reason."

Now Jordan looked interested. "Who and how?"

Willow smiled, glancing around. She had pressed a random button and had wound up on the fifth floor—the garden floor. She had put this in, mostly because she had wanted some ties to nature and this part of London was all city. "Come on—let's go sit down."

She led the way to a bench and sat, looking around. This had really been a good idea, if she did say so herself. There were flowers, small trees, and grass—without the bugs. She looked back at Jordan. 

"To answer your questions, in order, Buffy Summers and after she died."

Jordan blinked. "Huh?"

Willow grinned. "Buffy died for about a minute, therefore activating the next Slayer even though she was still alive after she got rescued. She and Kendra didn't get along all that well in the beginning."

"Because Kendra was—um—moving in on her turf?" Jordan asked. 

Willow grinned. "Well, mostly because Kendra tried to kill her and her honey, but—"

"Whoa—why?" Jordan demanded. 

"She thought she was a vampire," Willow replied nonchalantly. "Anyways, Buffy and Kendra finally started working together and they did a good job of it. After Kendra died though, Faith showed up."

"Faith?"

"Yup. Actually, again with the starting out rocky and then smoothing out some." Willow grimaced. "Then Faith went evil, which really put a damper on the relationship—"

Jordan was staring at her in wide eyed fascination. Willow smiled. "So, the point of this story—there's a point by the way—is that you're not the only Slayer who's had to deal with suddenly not being the "one girl in all the world", and the one before you actually found it to be nice to have someone to talk to that knew how it felt. So I'd suggest getting to know the other girls before you condemn them or anything."

Jordan's face set. "Yeah, but that was accidental—kind of at least. This was on purpose. They brought them back because I can't do my job right."

"Hey," Willow protested. "That's not why—exactly." She sighed. "Look, you're one person, one Slayer. With this upsurge in demons, you can't hope to hold your own—I don't think even Buffy could do that. It's not because they think you're incapable."

"And how do you know this?" Jordan demanded. Willow looked injured. 

"Hey, best friend of a Slayer sitting here. Slayers are not incapable—they're just not gods, which is unfortunate, 'cause we fought a god and it was hard."

Jordan stared. 

"Okay, and you don't care. The point is, if you feel that bad about it, talk to your Watcher. They're kinda supposed to be there to look out for you, and that includes when you're feeling pushed aside or something."

Jordan heaved a sigh. "Or when they're just being spoiled teenagers?"

Willow smiled. "Or that."

"How'd Buffy's Watcher react to her being a teenager?" Jordan asked curiously. Willow grinned. 

"He cleaned his glasses a lot. And then there was that time right after they met when Buffy told him, 'If the apocalypse comes, beep me.' He wasn't too happy about that."

"Beep me?" Jordan repeated. 

"Yeah—we had pagers that, if you called them, it beeped," Willow explained. 

"Oh—oh!" Jordan snickered. "Wow, I don't think my Watcher would have let me get away with that. He does clean his glasses alot though."

Willow grinned. "They all tend to do that—it's very weird. I always wondered if they took a class on the different ways to clean your glasses."

Jordan giggled. Willow stood up, saying, "Come on, I wanna check out the library."

Jordan rose, groaning. "Library?"

"Where the books live?" Willow teased. 

Jordan gave her an injured look. "I know that. Come on, it's this way."


	7. Patrol

A/N: *feels abandoned by reviewers*

Chapter 7

Damon watched as Willow wandered aimlessly through the library about a week later, a faint smile on his face. She certainly was an extraordinary young woman, her witchcraft aside. He had just spoken with Hunter about her today and had been told some interesting facts about his charge, including soul restorations, which shocked him. She certainly did not look the part of a powerful witch. 

He watched her take down a book and flip through it, trying to catch the title. When he did, he smothered a chuckle. Well, perhaps in the right environment she did. He walked up. 

"Prophecies and Demons of the 20th century?"

Willow jumped and glared. "Don't _do_ that! How many times do I have to tell you—sneaking up is not good! Buffy nearly tore Xander's arm off when he tried it with her. I'm a little more subtle, but I do get the job done."

Damon grinned. "Sorry. Why are you reading that?"

Willow cast him a withering look. "Researching."

"What?"

"Possible origins of this vamp we're apparently facing."

"And you think he came from your time?"

Willow rolled her eyes. "He's probably pretty old—I have no idea when he would be from. I mean, the Master was some 600 years old, Dracula was—Dracula, the Anointed One was a kid, it just depends."

"Hmm." Damon pulled out a book, peered at the cover, and handed it to Willow. "Perhaps you should work on developing your magic to help fight."

Willow gave him a strange look before taking the book. "My time can be put to better use."

Damon shook his head. "Your magic is your strongest weapon."

Willow glanced at him, then at the book, and shook her head. "Magic stuff I really don't need much help with. Besides, I know most of what's in this book."

"Word for word?" Damon queried. 

Willow glanced at him. "I can cast combat spells."

Damon shrugged slightly. "Learn it anyways."

Willow continued to look at him then glanced at a nearby table. The table burst into flame. 

Damon jumped with a shout, then watched in shock as the flame vanished, leaving the table unscarred. He stared at Willow, who said quietly, "Using the magic isn't what I have a problem with."

She slipped out, leaving Damon with another puzzle about his charge. Maybe he needed to go have a chat with Spike—from what he heard, Spike had been around her more than Angel in the years leading up to her death. Yes, perhaps that would be best. 

*********  
  
"Hey, Will!"

Willow, on her way  back from the library, looked up and smiled at Keladree. "Hey. What's up?"

"The sky?" Keladree suggested. "But seriously, we're going out for our first night of patrolling tonight. Wanna join?"

Willow smiled. "I'm not sure they'd let me go, since I'm not a Slayer. I'd love to, but…"

Keladree sighed theatrically. "You helped your Slayer, you obviously can fight, why wouldn't they let you go?"

Willow shrugged. "Maybe we should ask."

They headed for the dining hall and sat down to eat. At the end of dinner, Ashton rose and looked at the six Slayers and Willow. "As I am sure you have all been told, you five will begin patrolling tonight after dinner. You will go in pairs. Suri, you and Micaela will go together. Nora and Sarah, you two will pair up. Jordan, you will go with Keladree. Yes, Keladree?"

Keladree put her hand down. "Can Willow come with us?"

Ashton glanced at Damon, who shrugged, then looked at Willow. "For tonight, I suppose. It will not be a usual occurrence, but tonight will be all right."

Keladree grinned at Willow, who smiled back as Nora protested, "But she is not a Slayer."

Ashton nodded. "True, but her combat skills are at a level where she can hold her own if she is with a Slayer, and she is a witch." 

At this, he shot Willow a glance that said clearly that she should have told him. Willow looked back calmly. She really wasn't worried about him getting irritated with her. 

"If you all are finished, please collect your weapons and set out."

Willow joined Keladree and Jordan as they headed for the armory ahead of the others, their Watchers trailing. Keladree and Jordan found a handful of stakes each and, while Keladree tested out a set of daggers, Jordan chose a sword. Willow found a couple stakes and left it at that. 

Jordan's Watcher, Nathan something or other raised his eyebrows at Willow's choice of weapon. "We do run into demons around here."

Willow shrugged and took a dagger. 

Keladree's Watcher, Elaine Hunt, glanced at Damon. "Is it just me, or does she seem to be remarkably unconcerned about hunting demons?"

Willow heard that and joined them while the two Slayers continued to choose weapons. "I helped Buffy for seven years. I'm kinda used to the whole patrolling thing."

"Then you should know how dangerous it is for a non-Slayer," Elaine pointed out. 

Willow shrugged. "Patrolling was easy compared to the end-of-the-year apocalypses. We walked, we killed some vampires, any demons that were stupid enough to attack, we went home. It wasn't a big thing."

"Even Watchers aren't that careless," Elaine informed her. 

Willow looked at her seriously. "Watchers generally aren't witches. I've got a few tricks up my sleeve."

Jordan and Keladree appeared before either could comment. "Ready."

********

It was dark and fairly quiet. Jordan, Keladree, and Willow had walked for about a half an hour without seeing any signs of activity, demonic or otherwise. Their Watchers were trailing behind a few yards—_Meters! Willow scolded herself—and talking softly among themselves. _

The girls talked, not too loudly, discussing possible ways to find out about the head vampire that was making life a problem for humans. 

"You sure you can't just do a locator spell?" Keladree asked Willow. 

Willow sighed. "I don't have anything in particular to fix on. I can say vampire—but there are a lot of those. There's really nothing else to pin him down as."

"Big, bad, master vampire?" Jordan suggested. 

Willow smiled. "I don't think the spell would recognize that."

"Damn."

Keladree rolled her eyes. "Hey Will—maybe you could go online and see if he's put up a website. Hack into his files or something."

Jordan gave Willow a look. "You're a hacker?"

"Kind of," Willow said. "It's been a while but…why?"

Jordan shook her head. "Hacking's a really bad idea now."

"Why?" Willow asked curiously. "Damon said the same thing. What's up?"

"The vampires like to hack into important places' computers," Jordan told her. "Generally when they do, they crash the entire system, so any sign of hacking is really, really bad."

"Oh." Willow considered that and nodded. "Check. No hacking then."

"What happens if a human gets caught hacking?" Keladree asked curiously. 

Jordan raised an eyebrow. "Vampires can always use a meal."

"Ah. Ouch."

Willow frowned. "Isn't that kinda, like, counter-productive?"

Jordan shrugged. "They figure that if a person wants to do what a vampire would do, they can go live with the vampires. Watcher's Council doesn't agree, but they don't really care."

"So everyone knows about vampires now," Willow said. 

"Duh." Jordan rolled her eyes. "Kinda hard not to. People don't go out at night, and the Watcher's Council is kind of considered elite or something. They let us do our own thing."

"Council's always done that," Willow muttered. 

A crash distracted the three girls and they froze, staring into the direction the crash had come from. 

"The building," Keladree murmured in her ear. Willow nodded and started moving silently towards the large, empty looking building. It was probably a cat—or at least a newbie. An older vampire would be too smart to make a noise like that. 

Unless, of course, they wanted to draw the attention of two Vampire Slayers and a witch. 

The three girls made their way to the building and peered into an open window. It was dark and looked like a parking garage or a warehouse or something. 

Keladree tried the door. It was locked. Willow glared at the door handle, whispered a spell, and the door popped open softly. 

Jordan went in first, crossbow in hand, sword in a sheath across her back. Keladree had her daggers out and in either hand. Willow gripped a stake tightly in one hand but busily ran through all spells she knew that could help them out. 

There was another crash, this time near a set of stairs. Willow, Keladree, and Jordan exchanged glances then, with soft sighs, followed the sound. This was definitely a trap of some kind. 

"Jordan!"

The hissed voice made the three whirl and glare at the three Watchers standing in the doorway. Nathan ordered softly, "Get back here."

Jordan shook her head, motioning to the ceiling. 

"We'll come back later with reinforcements," Nathan hissed. "This is obviously a nest."

Willow and Keladree exchanged exasperated glances. They were sure that their Watchers felt the same way but just weren't saying anything. 

Willow looked at Damon, trying to figure out to explain that they needed to see what was going on now without saying to much and possibly alerting the vampires to the presence of three Watchers if they did not already know and remembered. 

_*__Jordan__, can you hear me?*_

Jordan jumped and spun, staring at Willow. 

_*That's a yes. Good—hang on. Damon?*_

Damon jerked, staring at Willow as well. Willow took a brief instant to feel happy that she could still speak telepathically before saying, *_Look, it's probably a trap, but we need to see what's going on. This may be our only chance to—they'll probably leave if we don't follow.*_

Damon's voice was hesitant. *_This is most definitely a trap __Willow__. Incidentally, how can you do this?*_

_*I'm a witch, remember? And we know this is probably a trap—we're not amateurs you know. Look, why are they so busy trying to get our attention? There's three of us—or six, if they know you're here. Even if they don't know that two are Slayers, why bother to fight with three people? So there's some reason, right?*_

_*We will discuss this later, for instance when it's safe.*_

Willow glared. _*You sound like Wesley when he first showed up. He was a pompous wimp. We're going. It's their job to kill vampires, it's my job to fight the good fight, we're going.*_

Damon, apparently not liking being called a pompous wimp, nodded and Willow turned back to the two Slayers. _*Jordan, Keladree, let's go.*_

Keladree stared at her along with Jordan. _*How—how is this happening?*_

_*Magic.*_ Willow grinned. *_Sorry if I scared you—it's just a lot quieter than talking. Anyways, let's go.*_

They did not argue, Jordan taking the lead as they silently made their way to the stairs. Willow cautioned Jordan and Keladree about the danger of old stairs—mainly the collapsing part—and they started up. 

The second floor was just as deserted as the first, but a sound by the set of stairs across the room proved that this was indeed planned. Willow frowned. If she remembered right from her glance at the building, it had five floors. Were the vampires on the top floor?

They made their cautious way across the second floor and up the second flight of stairs. It was the third floor that signs of habitation showed up, mostly in the form of dead bodies. 

Jordan's face tightened as she surveyed the room. Keladree scowled. 

Willow, after a pained look around, led the way to the third flight of stairs and stepped onto the first step. 

The stair cracked. Willow leapt back, just before the first three stairs tumbled down onto the second floor. 

Jordan steadied the red head as Keladree muttered, "Well that was exciting."

Willow checked her ankle to make sure that, on landing, she hadn't twisted it. It was okay and she turned her attention to how to get up the stairs. 

Keladree came up with the solution, grabbing boards that were lying on the floor and using them as a bridge to the next step. Willow steadied them with magic and they continued on. 

The fourth floor had yet more bodies, and a few dead demons. Willow thought about it halfway across the floor and looked at Keladree and Jordan. "What if they're all vampires that haven't risen yet?"

Keladree and Jordan exchanged glances. Keladree shook her head. "We can't go back now."

Willow nodded and they continued up the fourth set of stairs. 

The fifth floor looked the same as the last two. The girls stopped, looking around in confusion. They had been sure their "guide" would be here. 

A door banged shut. 

Willow, looking around, whispered, "Roof."

Keladree and Jordan nodded, and they made their way across the floor to the stairs leading up to the roof access. 

They halted at the door, a little wary of stepping out into the unknown. What if there was a hoard of vampires waiting for them to step through?  That would be bad. 

Willow finally opened the door a crack and peered out, counting on the darkness and lack of bright light inside to make the slight move invisible. 

She relaxed when she saw that there were no vampires right outside the door, but not by much. _*Well?*_

Jordan answered by taking the door and pulling it open and stepping out, crossbow ready. Keladree followed swiftly, her daggers out, and Willow still had her stake. 

A breeze ruffled their hair but nothing else moved. Willow had a really bad feeling as they slowly made their way around the corner, and had her bad feeling confirmed. 

At least twenty vampires stood in front of them, waiting. Willow eeped softly. Keladree gulped. Jordan snapped, "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you, Slayer," the vampire in front snarled, a grin on his face. "And she brought friends. How nice."

There was a snarl from behind the crowd, and the group of vampires visibly tensed. 

"Not friends, Marcus. Slayers. One other Slayer."

The vampire called Marcus turned. "But Master, there is only one Slayer."

"Apparently something has changed then, hasn't it?"

The voice was British, cultured, almost gentle but with a vicious edge. Willow frowned at the vampires. That was apparently their master. Now why didn't he come into view so they could dust him and all could go home happy?

Almost in answer to her inner question, the vampires parted to allow their master to the front. 

He stepped up, wearing slacks and a sweater, his hands in his pockets. His brown hair was graying slightly at the temples. His brown eyes were calm. 

Willow saw him and froze. 

"Giles?"

A/N: Duh duh duh! 

  
  
  



	8. Ripper

A/N: I'm back! Or I guess I should say my plot bunnies are back, for now at least. Enjoy. 

Chapter 8

Willow had no idea how she got back to Council Headquarters. She couldn't get the sight of Giles, standing there, just like he always had. Giles, a vampire. It wasn't real. It couldn't be. 

She blinked and found herself in the foyer of Council Headquarters. "How—"

Jordan beat her question, asking, "Who was that?"

Willow stared at the younger girl, feeling a lump in her throat. "Giles," she whispered. 

"A vampire named Giles?" Keladree asked. "Did you know him?"

Willow stared at her. "Giles is a vampire?" 

Whoa, okay, where was her mind going? Giles as a vampire was absurd. 

"You called that vampire Giles," Jordan said, a little worried about the older girl. 

Willow continued to stare at them. 

Damon said, concerned, "Willow?"

Willow spun to look at him, her eyes wide. "T-tell me that wasn't Giles. It had to be a mistake. Giles can't be a vampire."

She shook her head emphatically. "He can't be a vampire."

Keladree and Jordan exchanged glances with each other, worried about their friend. 

"I mean," Willow continued, desperate to prove her point. "Giles would never get caught by a vampire. He's too smart. And why would they turn him? It doesn't make sense. It couldn't have been him."

Damon laid a gentle hand on her arm. "Willow, who is Giles?"

Willow looked up at him and, at his gentle voice, her disbelief shattered. She took a step back, her face set. 

Jordan, Keladree, and the three Watchers took an involuntary step back as the air chilled. Willow fixed a cold look on them. "Where are Angel and Spike?"

"I don't know," Damon said. "Willow—"

"No," Willow said, raising a hand to cut him off. "Tell me where they are." _Before Darth Rosenberg comes out to play, she thought, even though she was pretty sure Darth Rosenberg had been cleansed by the spell for the Slayers. _

"I really don't know Willow," Damon said calmly. 

Willow looked at him for another moment then turned and stalked to the elevator. 

"Willow—"

Willow flicked a hand behind her, throwing her pursuer several feet back. The elevator doors closed and opened again on the floor where Angel and Spike lived. 

She strode down the hall to Angel's room. His door was open and he was not there. She heard someone walk up and rounded on them. 

The young Watcher took an involuntary step back. "M-Miss Rosenberg?"

"Where's Angel?" Willow asked. Her voice was low, calm, and deadly. 

"I-In the gym on this floor with Spike—"

Willow strode down the hall again, and the Watcher watched her vanish in a cloud of smoke. 

~*~

Angel ducked a punch from Spike and heard him say, "Oy—Angel."

Angel spun around, just in time to feel a fist collide with his jaw. "Hey!"

A second fist came towards him. Spike caught this one in his hand, saying, "That's enough Red."

Red? Wait—"Willow?"

Angel rubbed his chin, staring at the red haired witch. She struggled against the hold Spike had on her, snarling, "You bastard—why didn't you say anything?"

Spike gave up trying to just hold her arms and wrapped her in a bear hug to keep her from attacking Angel again. "Would you calm down?"

"Lemme go Spike—_I'm gonna stake him this time!"_

Angel stared at Willow, bewildered and wondering why she didn't use her magic to get free of Spike. Spike was obviously wondering the same thing as he held on grimly and braced to be thrown against the wall. 

But Willow was so upset that she totally forgot that she could—the sight of the two vampires had released the rest of her flood of emotions. 

"Willow, what's wrong?" Angel asked, perplexed and worried. He had never seen her like this.

"Giles!" Willow shouted. "How could you not tell me Giles was a vampire!"

Angel felt like she had hit him again. Spike didn't let go, but his jaw went slack for an instant. 

"Giles?" Angel repeated. "Giles—Giles is vampire?"

"Not only a vampire but our uber-bad vampire master. Don't tell me you didn't know," Willow snarled, still struggling fiercely. "You vampires know everything about each other. How could you not _tell_ me?"

"Willow, I swear, we didn't know," Angel said, still in shock. "Believe me—I would've said something if we had."

Willow stopped fighting, staring at the dark haired vampire through wide, pain-filled eyes. "G-Giles—"

She spun around in Spike's grip and buried her face in his duster, crying. 

Spike held her, looking at Angel. He mouthed in disbelief, "Giles?"

Angel shook his head. He couldn't believe it. 

The door opened. Angel looked up quickly and walked over to where Damon stood, watching Willow and Spike. 

"She told you I presume," Damon said in a low voice. Angel nodded. "She told me. Socked me a good one too."

Damon looked concernedly at him. "Are you all right?"

"I'm a vampire," Angel said dryly. "I'm fine. She doesn't hit nearly as hard as Buffy did."

"How is she?" Damon asked, nodding towards Willow and Spike. 

"Distraught," Angel said. "What would you expect? Giles was the father figure of the Scooby gang—Buffy's group of friends. He was Buffy's Watcher."

"Oh Lord," Damon breathed. "A Watcher?"

"It's not just that," Angel said. "Giles—he had a dark side even as a human. He was intelligent, knowledgeable of the demon world, and vicious when someone he loved was threatened in any way, particularly Buffy and Willow. All that and add a demon?"

"It would be bad," Damon surmised. 

"Willow as a vampire was bad. Giles as a vampire—I can't imagine."

"Look around," Damon said quietly. "This is what he's accomplished."

"I think compared to Ripper, Angelus was a kitten," the muffled voice of Willow said. She looked at them, Spike still with his arm around her comfortingly. "And I know what Angelus can do."

Angel looked her. Willow said, "A very violent kitten, yeah, but—"

"I know what you meant," Angel said quietly. "And I think you might be right."

A/N: Yeah, yeah, kinda short. Gimme a break. The bunnies dictate their own stories—I just write'em. 


	9. Talking

Chapter 9

* * *

Damon left Willow's room, meeting Angel and Spike outside. Angel asked, "How is she?"

"She wanted to be left alone," Damon said quietly. He raked his fingers through his hair. "Spike, how close were she and Giles?"

"Close," Spike said grimly.

"Damn." Damon glanced at the door, then back at the two vampires. "We need you two to tell us all you can about him."

Spike nodded, but Angel remarked, "You may want to wait for Willow to do that."

Damon gave him a quizzical look, and he explained, "She knew him better than we did. She may be able to tell you more."

Damon nodded. "If she's willing."

At breakfast the next morning, Willow was silent. Keladree watched her worriedly as she picked at her food. Damon paused next to her, murmuring to her, and Willow nodded in response. Damon squeezed her shoulder then headed out of the dining hall. Fifteen minutes later, Ashton entered the dining hall. "There is a meeting in half an hour that you all need to attend," he said to the Slayers. They nodded.

Nora asked, "Is this regarding what Jordan, Keladree, and Willow ran into last night?"

Ashton nodded. "Yes, it does. Miss Rosenberg? Mr. Hunter would like to see you as soon as possible."

Willow nodded without looking up from her plate, saying softly, "I'll be there in a minute."

Ashton left. Willow pushed her food around her plate for a few more minutes then pushed her chair back and headed out of the dining hall and up to Hunter's office, knocking softly.

"Enter."

Willow opened the door and slipped in, closing it behind her. "You sent for me?"

Hunter looked up. "Yes, thank you Willow. If you don't mind, I'd like to speak with you."

"About Giles."

Hunter nodded, slightly surprised. Willow explained, "Angel gave me the heads up."

"I see." Hunter gestured to a chair. "Have a seat. I was hoping you wouldn't mind speaking with the Slayers about this—Giles."

"That's the meeting in half an hour?" Willow asked.

"Well, yes. If you weren't willing, Angel and Spike agreed to do it."

Willow nodded, looking down. "You have a pad of paper and a pen?"

"Pardon?" Hunter asked, nonplussed.

Willow explained, "I need to write things down. I don't think I could do it cold. There's an eight year history."

"Oh. Of course." Hunter opened his drawer and pulled out a pad of paper and a pen and slid them across the desk to Willow. "And thank you."

Willow glanced up at him, nodded, and asked, "Can I go?"

"Of course."

Willow got up and left, going to her room to order her thoughts.

* * *

Half an hour later, Willow sat in the conference room, waiting for her turn to speak.

Hunter went first, rising and facing the six Slayers, their Watchers, Angel, Spike, and several other Watchers. "Thank you for coming. Last night, we found out who the vampire known as Master is."

The other Watchers looked stunned. Micaela's Watcher demanded, "You did? Who is it?"

Hunter nodded to Willow. "That is what Miss Rosenberg is here to talk about. Miss Rosenberg?"

Willow stood up, looking around. "Hello. You mostly all know who I am—if you don't, I'm Willow Rosenberg. The vampire that's leading the others was once named Rupert Giles. He was Buffy's Watcher."

There were gasps, murmurings of shock. Willow looked down, cast Angel and Spike a glance, then squared her shoulders and went on.

"Mr. Hunter asked me to tell you about him, about what you're facing when you're dealing with him, so that's what I'm here to do." She swallowed hard. _Chill Will—you are Giles now. Pretend you're him, talking about Angelus—without the drama maybe. Just another big bad._

"Giles is very intelligent. Obviously, he's perfectly aware of how Watchers and Slayers work. He was the Head of the Watcher's Council for—" She glanced at Angel, who said, "Fifteen years."

"For fifteen years. But there's something worse than that."

"Worse than a Watcher fighting the Council?" someone muttered.

"Yes," Willow said grimly. "When Giles was alive, as a teenager, he was known as Ripper. He had a darker side—mostly directed towards the protection of the people he loved while I knew him, but that combined with the demon inside makes Angelus look like a kitten."

"Oy," Keladree murmured. "That's bad."

"Yeah," Willow agreed. "So—we're dealing with a vampire that's cunning, knowledgeable, and is going to be hard to kill."

"So how do we kill him?" Jordan asked.

Willow looked at her for a minute, silent, her brow furrowed in confusion. Damon cleared his throat. "Willow? How do we kill him?"

Willow looked at him, looked at Spike and Angel, then shook her head. "I don't know."

Micaela snorted. "That is helpful. He is smart and dangerous, and apparently now impossible to kill."

"I didn't say that," Willow said quietly. "I just don't know how yet."

Nathan, Jordan's Watcher, inquired, "What should we expect then? He now knows that you are here. Will that change what he's doing? Step up his plan?"

Willow looked at him blankly. "Plan?"

"Yes, his plan. All vampires have a plan, whether it's to end the world or kill as many humans as possible." Nathan gave her a patient look.

Willow shrugged. "I doubt he'll change his plan much just because I'm here, since I don't think he plans on trying to end the world."

"So what is he doing?" Micaela's Watcher asked.

_What is he doing?_ Willow wondered. "I'm not sure. Let me get back to you on that."

Willow sat down at Hunter's nod and listened as he asked, "Angel? Spike? Would you two like to add anything?"

The two vampires glanced at each other then shook their heads. "Not right now."

Hunter nodded. "All right then. Meeting's over."

Willow didn't move as everyone filed out. Hunter glanced at her. "That was slightly less forthcoming than I expected."

"Me too," Willow admitted. "But—there isn't a whole lot to say. Giles was smart, cunning, had a ruthless streak, and the idea of him as a vampire is just really scary."

The raised eyebrows reminded her of Giles and she looked away. "Give me some time to read through all the information and I'll see what I come up with."

Hunter sighed and nodded. "I suppose that's the best I can hope for."

* * *

Willow shut her door behind her and tossed her jacket on the bed with a muttered, "Damn it." She knew Hunter had expected more, but honestly—what was she supposed to say? Giles as a person was not the same as Giles as a vampire, anymore than knowing what Angel would do was the same as knowing what Angelus would do. _Okay, so what would Ripper do?_

That was a really good question. The better question—how to stop this? This couldn't go on—too many vampires and demons in the world. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

She looked out the window, surveying the street and the buildings. She didn't know what to do. _You beat him once_. Right—and she was proud of that? _Doesn't matter—you can beat him again_. Beating the heck out of him with magic won't work the same with a vampire as it did with a human. _Your point?_

She growled at her mind to shut up. Her mind replied that if she didn't figure this out, everyone was going to think she was useless.

She glanced at her hand, calling in a ball of light, and smiled. She wasn't useless.

Now how to kill Giles.


End file.
